Tribute: My Dearest Jr
by Prophet of the Grove
Summary: This is a tribute to a fallen prophet; a work unfinished. R.I.P my brother.


**My Dearest Jr**

The frozen waters of the North sparkled brightly under the dazzling rays of the first full moon. The preparations have been made; the knights of Prince Arthas await their lord's return so they may start the assault on Mal'Ganis and his undead hordes. Among these knights sat a promising young paladin, taken under Arthas' wing to be trained with the Silver Hand. The young human listened attentively to his elders, like a sponge he soaked up the wisdom that they offered; learning what he could from this second hand education.

"Mail call, lads!" The voice of the expedition's resident postmaster rung out across the frozen encampment. The young paladin seemed un-phased by this sudden interruption. He never received mail, all his close family had parted during the second war and no other mail came but those letters from loved ones. _Maybe she sent something _he thought, thinking back home to Lordaeron and the day he left 'her' behind. Meanwhile the post-dwarf continued to pass mail around.

"Adri, Von, Zohawan and ... Jr? Tha's a new one. Well 'ere ya go lad." Jr's eyes sparkled under the fringe of his long golden mane. Politely he took the letter from Mabur and hungrily slit the ends with his knife. Opening the letter he instantaneously recognised the handwriting. _It is her _he thought to himself. Holding the letter to his heart he murmured something quietly and began to read.

_My dearest Jr._

_It is not often that I write to a soldier, although 'tis also rare for someone to steal my heart as you have._

_Are you not a famous rogue to steal me away and leave nought but these aching feelings of anguish and passion._

_I do not even know your name and still I cannot bear the thought of losing you to the night, there is so much I still need to know of you. _

_Please write me and return to me for my life means nought without you in it._

_Your love forever and always._

_S.W_

As he finished the letter, Jr held it to his heart once more and whispered upward, appearing to look at the dark sky.

"I know not my own name my love but 'tis the fates who decide when next we meet." Pocketing the letter in his rucksack, Jr returned to his attentive manner as the good Prince Arthas approached.

"A smile I have not seen upon your face since you were inducted youngling. That must be one special letter." Jr stared blankly at his master, a bright smile still blanketing his face. Almost forgetting formalities Jr uttered a quick reply.

"No master, nothing special in particular." Arthas read through Jr from cover to cover, after a moment's thought he asked.

"Hmm, I think I know exactly what that letter is, have you wooed a young lady of our home Jr?" with a deep sigh Jr muttered.

"Not exactly sir." A voice came from the distance, a gentle mocking tone directed at their conversation.

"Ha I know the feelin' boy, and I can tell ya it never gets easier. " This voice belonged to Muradin Bronzebeard, the stout leader of the dwarven expedition.

"I am sure you do know that feeling Muradin, although I was not aware that a Bronzebeard trait was striking out." Arthas' laugh was echoed with the laughter of Jr and the rest of the officers Muradin, however was not amused at Arthas' jive, staring deep into The Prince he cursed and uttered.

"Watch yourself Princey; I ain't above bustin' your nut." The laughter continued as Muradin sulked into the corner. Jr stared out at the glistening, moonlit sea of the North and let his mind drift home: home to 'she' who awaits his return. _Soon we will see each other, my love. _He thought,_ soon…_

The putrid smell of rotting corpses filled Jr's nostrils, the armies of Mal'Ganis had relentless attacked their encampment for days and the Prince and Muradin had still not returned from their secret mission. Then suddenly amidst the 'slash and bangs' of battle, a voice pierced across the frozen wastes.

"Subjects, your Prince has returned, returned with our salvation! Frostmourne will be your downfall Mal'Ganis!" Prince Arthas screamed as he marched into the battle; a strange aura flowed around him as he slashed the fabled runeblade Frostmourne through the hordes of undead. With Arthas at the frontlines the brave soldiers of Lordaeron quickly smashed through to Drak'Tharon Keep where Arthas would confront Mal'Ganis and finally have his revenge.

"Jr. Lead your cavalry towards the left flank and come down on my signal." Arthas voice seemed darker to Jr, however with no time to ponder the little things he veered off to the left, issuing his commands to the 1st cavalry regiment.

"Come knights of Lordaeron! For honor! For family! For the King!" Jr's cry was echoed by the knights of Lordaeron, as the rode quickly into position. The Light was strong within Jr. Vigour rose up in him as he awaited his master's call.

Then unexpectedly the 1st regiment fell to a surprise attack of Mal'Ganis' undead warriors. Unaware and outnumbered the brave humans fought to their deaths, the Light blessing their souls as they passed from this world to the next. As Jr fell to a mighty abomination his thoughts extended to that one letter; _your love forever and always, S.W. _His last words were of 'her', the Light, catching them on the winds carried them across the ocean and back home to his love.

"Forever and always my love. May the Light guide me back to you." The dark sky turned darker and the cold, icy grave called to Jr. With these final words the Light failed him and everything went dark….


End file.
